


Life on Mars?

by Alvitr



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Gen, Imaginary Friends, Magic, Unhappy Childhoods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 15:40:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4882471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alvitr/pseuds/Alvitr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you don't have a friend ... make one.</p>
<p>Written and originally posted to BSH in December 2009.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life on Mars?

“If you don’t have a friend … make one.”  
\- _May_  
  
“Without love, magic cannot be seen.”  
\- _Umineko no Naku Koro ni (When the Seagulls Cry)_  
  
  
 **19 years ago**  
  
“Hey, Howard. D’you think Martians like Bowie’s  _Life on Mars_?”  
  
Vince Noir, eleven years of age, was stretched out over the top of the climbing frame in the play park not far from his school. He waited a few minutes, and when it became clear that he was not going to receive an answer, tried again.  
  
“Howard? Howard? Are you listenin’?  _Howard!_ ”  
  
There was an indistinct mutter, so low that Vince had to strain to hear it. He closed his eyes tightly. “Howard! Stop ignorin’ me!”  
  
He held his breath, wishing, hoping, and then at last: “ _If_  there is  _intelligent_  life on Mars, Vince, then they certainly aren’t listening to David Bowie. They’re listening to jazz.”  
  
Vince opened his eyes and smiled triumphantly. “As if!” He wriggled and twisted around on the bars until he could see Howard’s morose and ungainly figure perched on one of the swings, swaying gently side to side. “They only listen to jazz on Pluto, Howard, and everyone knows Pluto is for  _weirdos_.”  
  
Howard stuck out his tongue in a moment of childishness, and then quickly withdrew it, embarrassed at himself. In the distance, a church bell tolled out the hour. “It’s five o’clock,” Howard said. “Shouldn’t you be heading home now?”  
  
Vince frowned, flipped himself onto his back again, and crossed his arms beneath his head. “No. And that ain’t home, it’s just a place to sleep.”  
  
“You’re going to miss dinner.”  
  
“I hate the food there!”  
  
“Well, what’re you going to eat then? You can’t go stealing sweets from the shops downtown again, not after you got caught that last time.”  
  
 _Invite me round your place_ , Vince thought wistfully, but squashed the thought immediately. That was, of course, impossible. “I know!” he said, and shimmied down the bars swiftly, landing neatly on his feet in the gravel. “I’ll busk! I’ll stand on a street corner and sing for my supper!”  
  
“Sing?” Howard looked faintly horrified. “Sing what? Bowie?”  
  
“Yeah, why not?”  
  
“That’s a terrible idea, Vince. No one’ll be giving you money for that. Let me pop off and get my trumpet. I’ll cook up some smooth tunes and make you a bundle.”  
  
“Howard,” Vince said with as much tact as he was capable of mustering, “the only way you’ll get any money with that trumpet is if you’ve got a little red cup and they think you’re in the Sally Army.” He paused. “And it ain’t December, it’s September. And even if it were …”  
  
“All right, all right,” Howard groaned. “You’ve made your point! Have it your way.”  
  
“Genius!” Vince said, and gave a whoop of excitement. “Now, let’s see. What song should I kick off with?  _Golden Years_?  _Rebel Rebel_? Actually, maybe I should warm things up with  _I Love to Boogie_  by T. Rex … that would really draw ‘em in … it’s well lively …”  
  
  
 **15 years ago**  
  
“Well, hello there, ladies. I’m Vince Noir. And this here is my mate, Howard Moon.”  
  
“Howard T. J. Moon,” Howard clarified. Vince blinked.  _T. J.? Where did that come from?_  
  
The two girls standing before them – the brunette, Elly, had been chatting Vince up all night, and had, at Vince’s request roped her ginger-haired friend, Ruth, into joining them – both looked confused for a moment. Then, as if a mist had suddenly been lifted, their eyes focused more firmly on Howard. “Oh!” said Ruth. “It’s, uh, so nice to meet you … sorry, what did you say your name was again? Harold?”  
  
“Howard,” Howard and Vince said simultaneously.  
  
“Dreadfully sorry. Howard.”  
  
“Not a problem,” Howard said, attempting to sound nonchalant, and not at all like he was a sweaty-palmed virgin trying to make it with a strange girl at the very first  _real party_  he’d ever attended. “Not a problem at all.”  
  
“Why don’t you two sit down and get to know each other better?” Vince said, slinging an arm around Elly and winking at Howard.  
  
“Right,” Howard said, his face turning slightly red. “Shall we?” he said to Ruth, and gestured grandiosely to a nearby couch.  
  
As they walked away, and Vince turned his attention back to his own potential conquest, he heard Ruth saying to Howard, “I’m so, so sorry, I’m never this forgetful, but what was your name again …?”  
  
  
 **12 years ago**  
  
“What is  _that_?” Vince cried, clutching at chest in terror.  
  
“You’re going to have to be a little more specific, Vince. “That” could refer to any number of things about my fine person. The debonair glint in my eyes? The jazzy swagger in my gait? My rakish grin?”  
  
“No, I ain’t talkin’ about anything like that, Howard. I’m talkin’ about that fuzzy caterpillar crawling across your upper lip!”  
  
“Ah, so you noticed it,” Howard said, flashing what Vince imagined must be the aforementioned “rakish grin”. “My moustache,” he said proudly. “ _My moustache!_  I’d twirl it dramatically right now, but it hasn’t quite reached that stage yet.”  
  
“And it never will!” Vince said with determination. “Christy, I leave you alone for  _one week_  and this is what happens? Shave it off! Shave it off right now!”  
  
“Woah now!” Howard said, cupping his hands over his lips in an attempt to protect his vulnerable fledgling ‘tache. “You can’t make me shave it! Howard Moon is his own man. I’m not your … your  _play-thing_ , sir!”  
  
Vince stopped in tracks and looked at Howard oddly. He frowned, and a crease formed between his eyebrows. “I … I guess you’re right,” he said slowly. For a moment, a confused and almost miserable expression crossed his face, so quickly that only someone who knew him very well might have caught it. Howard did know Vince that well, but at the moment he wasn’t paying attention to Vince; he was combing his moustache in the mirror.  
  
“Yes, sir, I’ve got big plans for these whiskers,” he said. “Gonna grow a moustache like none other. It’ll be the pride of London – no, of all Britain!”  
  
“What d’you want a stupid moustache for, anyway?” Vince said sulkily.  
  
Howard straightened up and looked over his shoulder back at Vince. “Look, Vince. Let’s face it. I know I’m sort of …” he paused, grimacing, “forgettable.”  
  
“What?” Vince said, hoping he sounded sincere. “No – no you ain’t, Howard, that’s not true --”  
  
“Vince, nobody remembers my name, and barely anybody even remembers my face either! It’s like …” Howard raised his hands to the heavens. “It’s like they don’t even see me sometimes!”  
  
“ _I_  see you,” Vince said firmly.  _Isn’t that … enough?_  
  
Howard sighed. “Yeah, I know. You’re a good friend, little man.”  
  
Vince shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “So what does all of this have to do with you growin’ that thing?”  
  
Howard shrugged awkwardly. “I just thought … well, maybe if I had a signature … you know, like you and your hair? Maybe then people might remember me. Instead of just being a nobody, I’d at least be a nobody with a moustache. That’s a little better, isn’t it?” He ran a finger over his upper lip, looking slightly abashed. “I don’t know … don’t you think it gives me character?”  
  
Vince stuck his hands deep into the tight pockets of his jeans and mulled it over. “You already got character, Howard. You’re like … the most charactery character I know.”  
  
Howard blushed. “Er …. Well then. Thank you.”  
  
“But yeah, it ain’t as bad as I thought it was, at first. I guess I can learn to live with it.” He sat up and leaned forward. “So, what else did you do while I was away this week? Besides encouraging your facial hair to grow, I mean.”  
  
For a second, Howard looked blank, as if he couldn’t rightly recall  _what_  he had done. “Oh,” he said uncertainly, “I was … I was searching for the perfect flask.”  
  
  
 **8 years ago**  
  
Not long after they started working at the Zooniverse, Naboo took Vince aside.  
  
“So … what’s up, Naboolio?”  
  
Naboo gave him a long, slightly skeptical look. “I don’t get you.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“Why would you need to do something like this? People love you as soon as they see you, from what I’ve observed. I’d hardly call you lonely.”  
  
Vince’s face turned ashen and he stumbled a little. “I – I don’t – how --”  
  
“People like you are quite rare, you know. You could do much bigger things with gifts like yours.”  
  
Vince had regained some of his composure. He looked down and scuffed at the ground with one Chelsea boot. “I ain’t got a clue what you’re on about.”  
  
Naboo narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. “Let me just give you a word of warning. This sort of thing has a tendency to get out of hand after awhile. Don’t be surprised if the end result far surpasses the initial intention … if it hasn’t already.” He turned to leave, but stopped. “He’s not your toy, you know.”  
  
Vince stood there for some time after the shaman had left. “But,” he whispered at last, “he’s my best friend.”  
  
  
 **3 years ago**  
  
“What is  _wrong_  with you? Why are you so  _boring_ , Howard?”  
  
“Oh, so I’m boring, eh? You know what – you’re the boring one, Vince!”  
  
“What?! As if that was even a possibility! It’s physically impossible for me to be boring.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah. It’s been proven by science.”  
  
“It’s always the same with you, you know. It has been ever since were kids. Nothing ever changes with you, Vince. You always …  _use_  me, just to make you feel better about yourself!”  
  
“That isn’t true! Stop pitying yourself, you’re pathetic!”  
  
They stood in the midst of the Nabootique, or rather the scene of destruction that had once been the shop. Stationery Village was going to need quite a bit of disaster relief funding. In their argument, they’d pulled the store apart, or rather Vince had; Howard’s physical outbursts had been confined to dropkicking the Celebradar, which had been intensely satisfying, if awfully messy. His foot also hurt quite a lot.  
  
“See, this is exactly what I mean. Whenever you’re around your  _friends_ , it’s like you just want me to disappear, or you use me for target practice so you can all have someone to make fun of. And then when they aren’t around, it’s all,  _Oh, Howard, you’re my best mate, can you make me a Nutella sandwich without the crusts on? Don’t be mad, let’s do a crimp!_  I’m … sick of it! I’m sick of this … limbo that I’m in with you!”  
  
Vince had never felt this furious before in his life. His rage and frustration had increased steadily over the last hour along with their fight, which, in his opinion, had been completely unnecessary in the first place – he’d only been teasing Howard a little after all, just like he always had, and he’d decided to get all touchy and defensive. It had been harder and harder to please Howard in these last few years. He was never bleeding satisfied, was he? Vince spied one stack of Howard’s records that had not yet been smashed and pushed them off of the shelf with a callous flick.  
  
Howard exploded. “Will you  _stop_  destroying everything that’s mine?! Why don’t you have any respect for me? It’s like you think that I’m less than human, Vince! What kind of person treats their best friend like that!”  
  
“Yeah, well you know what?” Vince said, his voice thick with anger. “Maybe I don’t need you to be my best friend anymore. Maybe I want to destroy everything of yours because I’m so  _sick_  of you! Maybe I do want you to disappear!” And suddenly, caught in the moment, he pressed his eyes tightly shut.  _Disappear, disappear, disappear! I don’t need you anymore!_  
  
When he opened his eyes, Howard was still standing there, his arms crossed, shaking his head with contempt.  
  
A thrill of something like terror went through Vince, followed by uncertainty. He stared at Howard in amazement.   
  
“You’re the pathetic one, Vince. You’re a grown man, and you still act like a child. In a way I suppose it’s my fault. I’ve protected you so much, it’s no wonder you’ve never had to grow up. Well, that’s all going to change, sir. I can assure you of that. Howard Moon won’t be there for you forever! I don’t come with a lifetime warranty!”  
  
“ _Shut up!_ ” Vince shouted, his voice shaking. “Just  _shut up_ , Howard!” Then he rushed upstairs and locked himself in the bathroom.  
  
 _Oh my god_ , he thought.  _What just happened?_  
  
Howard was still there, downstairs. Vince couldn’t believe it. It hadn’t … it hadn’t worked.  
  
 _And thank god it didn’t. Don’t forget what happened last time._  
  
Vince turned on the taps and splashed some water on his face, and then scrubbed it vigorously with a flannel. He was shaking all over, both with relief and with fright.  
  
 _This sort of thing has a tendency to get out of hand after awhile. Don’t be surprised if the end result far surpasses the initial intention … if it hasn’t already.  
  
He’s not your toy, you know._  
  
There was a knock at the door. “Er, Vince. I … look, I’m sorry. I said some pretty rough things down there.”  
  
Vince put a hand over his face and let out a shaky breath. “S’all right. Me too.”  
  
Howard gave a little laugh. “Great. Well … um … do you suppose you could help me clean up the shop? Only Naboo’s going to be furious when he gets back if he sees the mess we made.”  
  
  
 **One hour ago**  
  
When Naboo came downstairs to double-check the lock on the shop door, he was surprised to find Vince sitting in his red barber’s seat, alone in the dark.  
  
“Oh hey, Vince. When did you get in?”  
  
Vince shrugged. “A little while ago.” He watched as Naboo checked all of the locks, the physical ones … and the special ones you couldn’t see. The magic ones. “I needed to speak to you.”  
  
“Hmm?” Naboo turned on the light near the till. “Does this have to do with Howard going to Denmark? He’s back now, there’s no need to worry.”  
  
Vince just stared at him. “Naboo. You  _know_  what the problem is.”  
  
Naboo sighed. “Well, I did warn you.”  
  
“But how is it even possible?!” Vince slid forward in his seat. “I mean … to be honest, after he left, I thought he might just … wink out of existence! But then I saw that stupid advert … I don’t understand. Before, even if we were separated for only a few days, he’d get a little fuzzy round the edges.”  
  
“Vince,” Naboo said firmly. “I  _told_  you. This sort of magic has a tendency to evolve and grow over the years.”  
  
“But Naboo,” Vince said, and his voice sounded almost tearful, “I … I  _made_  him! I made him up!”  
  
Naboo sighed, and took a seat. Vince supposed he should feel grateful he was taking time out of his busy schedule of getting stoned and watching  _Peacock Dreams_  to deal with this. “How did it start? Was he like an imaginary friend to you originally?”  
  
Vince nodded. “I was just a kid. I wanted … somebody who would stick around.” He put his head in his hands. “In the beginning, nobody could see him, except me.”  
  
“But since then … he’s gotten more and more real?”  
  
“Yeah. After a little bit of trying, people could see him sometimes, if I really, really wanted them too. Then it got easier, and people saw him almost all the time, they usually just needed a little push. Though I guess his presence wasn’t very strong, because they were always forgetting he was there, or who he was.” Vince shrugged. “And then … all of a sudden, he started doing all of these things on his own! Like makin’ up middle names for himself, and growin’ moustaches, and fallin’ in love with reptile keepers, and makin’ friends I never heard of, and runnin’ off to bleeding Denmark to make avant-garde films! I just don’t understand how it’s happening, and I don’t know what to do about it.”  
  
Naboo shook his head. “Vince, you still don’t understand. Howard is  _real_  now. You wanted him to be real, and over time, he became just that. He’s an autonomous person now. That’s what I told you – he’s not your possession. He’s not … not a dolly that you can play with and then put away.” He made a face. “Well, that didn’t come out quite the way I meant it to.”  
  
Vince stared at him for awhile and then looked away. “You know, awhile back, I tried to make him disappear. And he didn’t.”  
  
“Of course he didn’t.”  
  
“But he did … he did once before. Really disappear. It was … horrible.”  
  
“What exactly happened?”  
  
 _“You’re nine years old, Vincent. It’s normal for children to have imaginary friends, but you’re getting a bit old for that now. You do know that … that Howard isn’t real, don’t you?”  
  
“Yes, he is! Stop saying that!”  
  
“Vincent, please. You’re only making things harder for yourself. The other children here tease you quite a lot about these fantasies of yours, don’t they? We can’t be there to protect you all of the time. You have to try harder to fit in.”  
  
“I don’t need any of those kids, they’re dead boring! I have Howard. He’s my best friend … I don’t need anyone else!”  
  
“That’s enough, Vincent. This can’t go on. Howard does not exist. Say it.”  
  
“No!”  
  
“If you don’t say it, then we’re going to have to reprimand you, Vincent. Do you really want that to happen? Say it – ‘Howard does not exist. I made him up’.”  
  
“Stop it! Stop it! Don’t you understand – it’s like you’re killin’ him!”  
  
“Your choices have consequences, Vincent. That’s one of the most important lessons of life. Do you really want to face the consequences of persisting in this delusion?”  
  
“N- no …”  
  
“Then say it.”  
  
“Howard … Howard doesn’t exist … I made him up.”_  
  
“They forced you to deny his existence,” Naboo said.  
  
Vince nodded. Just remembering that day brought back all of the emotions he’d felt then – fear, loneliness, sorrow. “And it worked. He really did vanish. It took such a long time to bring him back.” He looked back up at Naboo. “How is it I’m able to do this, Naboo? I mean, most people’s imaginary friends don’t come to life, do they?” He was a little shocked at the prospect. If that was the case, who knew who was real and who was imaginary? God, Marc Bolan had to have been imaginary. No one that wonderful could have been real, eh?  
  
“No,” Naboo said. “I told you before – people like you are rare. You have the ability to create “one” from “nothing”, Vince. That’s the power of origins, and it's not something you can learn how to do, it's just something you have – shamans and magicians call people who have that power Creators.”  
  
Vince shrugged. “But I didn’t do nothin’ special. I just believed in him, that’s all.”  
  
“That’s all it takes, for you.” Naboo sighed. “There is one thing that I’ve found weird about this situation. Well, besides the fact that Howard isn’t exactly the type of person I’d expect you to create.” He raised an eyebrow quizzically, as if to say,  _Really, Vince? A cardigan-wearing loner who gets off on brass instruments?_  Vince blushed. To be honest, he’d often wondered how he’d come up with Howard himself. But he had no idea. Howard had just come to him, no planning involved. And to Vince’s surprise, for the most part he’d been the perfect companion to him.  
  
Naboo continued, “You see, usually, created objects --”  
  
“Howard ain’t an object!”  
  
“I know, Vince, it’s just a term of the trade – anyway, I was saying, usually creations like Howard are aware that they are, you know, creations. But Howard doesn’t know, does he?”  
  
Vince shook his head. “No. He don’t. He … he used to, before that time he disappeared. But after that …” He twisted his hands in his lap restlessly. “When I finally was able to bring him back, I didn’t want that to happen ever again. So I thought if I made him believe in himself too, then maybe he’d be stronger and I wouldn’t … I wouldn’t lose him again.”  
  
 _“I don’t understand, Vince. Where are my parents again?”  
  
“They’re … they’re in Leeds. Your dad is, uh …” Vince looked around himself and pulled over one of his school books. “He’s a geography teacher!”  
  
“So why am I here instead of with them in Leeds?”  
  
“Because you’re living here with me, silly,” Vince reminded him. “Because we’re best friends.”  
  
Howard nodded, but his brow was still furrowed in confusion.  
  
“Hey,” Vince said, “do you want to hear about the time me and Bryan Ferry found lost pirate treasure in the jungle?”  
  
“Why would pirates hide treasure in the jungles of India?”  
  
“Well, that’s a very interesting story. You see …”_  
  
“I mean, I’m glad he didn’t disappear. I don’t want him to disappear. It’s just … he was meant to be my best friend. And now, I ain’t got no control over that at all.”  
  
“Of course you do. You have as much control as anybody does over their friendships.”  
  
“Naboo, he was supposed to never leave me! That’s why I created him in the first place!”  
  
“Vince,” Naboo said seriously. “It’s your responsibility to keep your friendship with Howard alive. You made him, and you made him so well that he’s a real person who can make his own decisions. If you don’t treat him right, you will lose him again. But you won’t be able to bring him back the way you did before.”   
  
Vince sniffed. “That’s even worse than him disappearin’. I don’t want to lose him.”  
  
“Then it’s on you. And Vince, one more thing … he can never know. That could … undo him. In more ways than one.”  
  
  
 **Now**  
  
“All right, Howard? What are you doing up here on the roof?”  
  
Howard gave one of his dramatic sighs. “Just … contemplating the cosmos, Vince. And my tiny, tiny part in it.”  
  
“What d’you mean?”  
  
“It’s not something you’d understand, Vince. It’s like the world revolves around you, isn’t it? As if reality just bends itself to your liking.”  
  
Vince looked at him awhile, an unreadable expression on his face. “No, it don’t, Howard,” he said. “There’s nothing that special about me.”  
  
“Ha!”  
  
“You’re the special one, Howard,” Vince continued, his voice slightly unsteady. “I … I know I ain’t really shown it recently but … you’ve always been everything I ever could have wanted in a best friend, Howard. You’ve been … exactly what I dreamed of.”  
  
Howard gave him a funny look. “Are you feeling all right, Vince? Don’t make me think you’re dying again, like last time.” He paused. “And please don’t try to kiss me, either.”  
  
“No, I ain’t. I just wanted you to know … I missed you, mate. While you were gone.”  
  
“Oh. So Adam didn’t fit the bill, eh?”  
  
“Er … no. He was … a mistake.”  _A botched replacement. Pretty stupid of me to think I could make Howard again. What a joke!_  “He wasn’t you. Not at all.” He cleared his throat. “So how was Denmark, anyway?”  
  
“What? You mean between stumbling around alone in a country where I couldn’t speak the language, and letting myself be convinced to don a crab suit and pretend I was gas in Jurgen Haabermaaster’s stomach?” Howard shuddered at the memory. “It was … very rainy. It rained every day I was there.”  
  
“Oh,” Vince said, looking a bit guilty.   
  
“Maybe it was a sign that I shouldn’t have gone there.”  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
They sat in silence for a little while, listening to the sounds of traffic below them. Then Vince said, “Howard?”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“Please don’t leave again. I promise … if you want to go on an adventure, I’ll definitely go with you.” He smiled. “Just give me enough time to pack my bags.”  
  
Howard laughed. “We’ll never leave if I do that.” Cupping his chin in his hands, he said, “Yeah. I promise. It’s no fun without you, anyway, Vince.”  
  
Vince smiled, relief washing over him.  _It’s going to be all right_ , he decided.  _I’ll absolutely make sure it’ll be all right._  
  
“Hey, Howard?”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“D’you think the Moon likes David Bowie’s  _Space Oddity_? Or do you think maybe he’d prefer T. Rex’s  _Planet Queen_?”  
  
“I don’t really know, Vince. Why don’t you ask him?”  
  
“Oh, ermmm,” said the Moon. “I’m more of a Led Zeppelin fan, meself.”  
  
  
 _The end._  
  
“Without love, the truth cannot be seen.”  
\- _Umineko no Naku Koro ni_

**Author's Note:**

> [Playlist for this fic](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLscRkONwbfwqNvO3ZQgkSFe9QtUojAG7g) (Youtube)
> 
> 1\. David Bowie - Life on Mars?  
> 2\. David Bowie - Golden Years  
> 3\. T. Rex - I Love to Boogie  
> 4\. David Bowie - Rebel Rebel  
> 5\. dai - 生まれてきてくれてありがとう (Thank You For Being Born)  
> 6\. dai - Moon  
> 7\. David Bowie - Space Oddity  
> 8\. T. Rex - Planet Queen  
> 9\. Led Zeppelin - Thank You


End file.
